


Hell to Pay

by Starveined



Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: And Other Violent Urges, But for Good Reason, Death Threats, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Married Couple, Toppat Civil Warfare Ending | TCW (Henry Stickmin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27858297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starveined/pseuds/Starveined
Summary: In the Toppat Civil Warfare ending, where Henry throws Reginald off the airship, Right goes after him without a single second of hesitation.This is what would have happened if they spent more time together down there after Reg was saved, enough so that they could avoid being tragically clobbered to death by an escape pod.
Relationships: Copperright - Relationship, Reginald Copperbottom/Right Hand Man
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





	Hell to Pay

“I’m going to want that hat ba-”

When Right saw that bastard’s hand wrap around his love’s arm, he knew exactly what was happening. On any other day, upon observing someone treating Reginald like that, he would have killed them. But not now. He didn’t even have the time to feel any anger; seeing Reg disappear and hearing the quickly fading sound of his scream left him with no room for anything but fear.

He still wasn’t fully used to it, being enhanced like this, so it seemed to happen on instinct alone; how his legs lifted from under him and kept him in the air. It felt like sprinting through nothing but the pounding of his own heart as he tore down through the sky, having to close the remaining one of his eyes against the air rushing past him as he quickly reached a speed that no fully human individual would have been able to survive the near instant acceleration to. The lack of sight from that eye was no issue, though, perhaps even beneficial because now he could focus in on his target through the robotic one, zooming in far enough to perceive the tears flying from Reginald’s face and the simultaneous hope and panic in his eyes as he gazed up at him.

Seeing that, the trust his husband had for him, filled Right with enough adrenaline to reach an even faster velocity, dipping down just below Reginald’s body and taking hold of it with his arms. He barely slowed down at first, continuing to fly them to the ground at a breakneck speed, but then eased them into a slower and slower descent so that it wouldn’t be traumatic to Reg’s body. Soft, fragile, so easy to break… Right had to harshly cut those thoughts out in order to concentrate. By the time they reached a stop it was only a few stories off the ground, and Right lowered them the rest of the way far more slowly, chest heaving from his panicked breaths.

Of all the places to be thrown overboard, this barren desert had to be among the worst. Right felt his legs separate and snap down to support them on the sun-warmed sand, but made of metal or not, nothing could have stopped his knees from buckling then. He crumpled to the ground, holding Reg’s body tight against his and not bothering to make an attempt at concealing the tears dripping down the left side of his face. It seemed that, even if he could only cry from one eye now, the tearflow was overall the same. Either that, or he really was that upset over this. Right hated crying, because it made him weak. Not in the sense that others would look at him and deem the action soft, because that was a struggle of almost everyone, but rather that whenever he cried, his ability was reduced. To see, to think, to take bullets and give _anything_ to protect the man he loved. 

He felt a hand move behind him and press to the back of his neck, so he forced a deep breath and lifted his head from its place of being buried in Reginald’s neck to look at him instead. He was crying too, but in a different way. While wet, his pale green eyes were shimmering with life, and he smiled. They’d both lost their hats long ago in the fall, so there was nothing to block the view of his wind ruffled hair, a complete mess but somehow still stylish looking. His mustache was tousled and crooked to match, and his cheeks were covered in pink blotches of blush, but the chaos was uniquely captivating. He looked beautiful.

The gloved hand moved to trace down the metallic side of Right’s face, with just as much love as he would have given it but a year ago when still soft and warm; able to heat beneath fingers and better hold the moisture left behind from overenthusiastic kisses. Reg’s smile started to fade, though, as he took in the state Right was in. “...You’re shaking.”

Was he? Yes. They both were, but him to a far greater degree. His best solution to this was to only hold Reginald more tightly, and do his best to make the sniffle that came from him as quiet as possible.

Reg’s brows only furrowed in concern. “Love, you saved me, we’re both fine.”

“...You could’ve died,” Right quietly rasped in response, voice even gruffer than usual and the waver in it coming through as further electronic distortion.

Surprisingly, Reginald’s response was soft laughter, though there was clearly a layer of melancholy beneath. “Isn’t that true all the time, though?” He moved his hand again to hook his elbow around Right’s neck. “And…” his voice was very soft now, “You’ve kept me alive this long.”

God, how many years had it been now? Ten, fifteen? The immensity of the time they’d spent with one another seemed to blur together; into one big and beautiful disaster that told a nonlinear story only two people knew how to read. Right felt the arm around his neck give a gentle tug and gave in, bringing his face in close to Reg’s and accepting the kiss that was waiting for him. He had to put significant effort into not breaking out in sobs right into his husband’s mouth, but as the moments passed it became an easier task. His metal hand cradled the back of Reginald’s head while the unaugmented one still held him firmly around the middle of the back, ensuring that if anything or anyone tried to hurt him again it would have to deal with him as collateral damage.

The kiss was gentle, but deep, and when they finally broke apart it was tailed by panting from each of them. Right looked up, squinting against the sun, to see that the airship was still stuck in a hover above them. Reginald followed his gaze, then let out a small cough to get his attention. “I-I’m sure things are being handled, can we stay here a few more minutes? I…”

Right knew. He knew that Reg was afraid of heights unless safely locked within the airship. And, last he knew, being thrown to what was intended to be his death and freefalling was not very safe or locked. Now that the worst of the fear had started to dissipate, the anger could finally set in. He felt it, gathering hotly within him and creeping up his throat as a growl. “I want to hurt him.”

As much as he wished to see blood in that moment, all it took was a single hand being pressed flat against his chest to completely pacify him. “I understand, but…” Reginald looked upset again now, and trailed off. “Please don’t try.”

Right had a moment of confusion. Why would Reg ever want the person who’d almost killed them both at this point and taken over the clan to walk away unscathed? He got his answer through a quiet voice when both of Reginald’s hands reached up to fiddle with the tie in Right’s hair.

“I almost lost you to him once, and I’m not letting you risk it happening again.”

He was stunned, staring in silence as saffron waves fell down over his shoulders and Reg lightly tugged his gloves off to run his fingers through the lush orange mane unobstructed. “It’s not that I don’t think you could beat him,” the leader whispered, adjusting to sit up more and bury his face in Right’s hair. “I know you could, but…”

Right felt warmth meet his neck, quickly recognizing it as more tears and letting himself deflate. “Okay, okay, Reg, I won’t try anything,” he forced out, drawing in a deep breath.

“Good,” the other weakly muttered against him, soon pulling back with a sharp breath and, face still wet, kissed him again.

They sat there for many more minutes than was reasonable, thumbing away stray tears from each other and willing the remaining adrenaline from the fall to fade. Still, staying here was not optimal, but just as Right was about to speak up that they should be getting back up to the airship, he noticed movement in the distance. An escape pod, far enough away to put them out of immediate danger but close enough to clearly make out four figures emerging and standing in a loose circle on the sand.

He narrowed his eye, and stood. Reginald looked over to where he was staring, and appeared sad, if anything. Right huffed out a breath, adjusting his husband more comfortably in his arms and giving the figures in the sand one final detesting look before forcing the two of them back into the air.

Even if it wouldn’t be him to carry out the process, there would be hell to pay for Henry and the traitors who had flocked to him.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because TCW makes me really sad and I wanted to heal myself :(
> 
> Also can we please save Dave? Let's all save Dave and give him head pats.


End file.
